


Medicine

by Kawaiikidney



Category: South Park
Genre: Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6902083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiikidney/pseuds/Kawaiikidney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cartman skips his medicine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Medicine

Cartman held a bottle in his hand. It was cold, yet fit snugly around his warm fingers. His bottles always stayed in the bathroom, around the sink that was cooled by the air vent; it was a good way to make sure he took his medication in the mornings while he brushed his teeth. Nothing about the bottle or its contents were appealing, in reality he’d always felt that it was off-putting and stressful to have them in his line of sight whenever he entered the lavatory to wash up. It served a constant reminder that he was a fucking schizophrenic. 

He was too violent, the doctors had told his mother, they told her he needed medication to treat his schizophrenia. They assured her it wouldn’t be too heavy and he wouldn’t need as many as other patients they had, but as the years went by he was assigned more prescriptions alongside his original one. He was finally diagnosed with his main disorder: schizoaffective disorder. They switched his treatments. He had to admit, he wasn’t as impulsive or willing to lash out at people with drugs and therapy, but Cartman was still an asshole and that would probably never change. The first few weeks were a battle between him and Lianne, he refused to take the forsaken medication, spouting bullshit here and there about how she had no right taking him to get psychiatric help and how nothing was wrong with him and he didn’t need it. Eventually he abandoned his hostilities in favor for how calm he’d felt with the prescription, ever since he’d just do his daily routine of taking morning meds without hesitation. 

Now he set the bottle back down without opening it, washed his face and brushed his teeth without sparing a glance to it. He wasn’t sure why he skipped taking his pills, he just… felt like it. 

Cartman prepared for school, wearing his regular attire of a jacket and a hat. He ate breakfast, packed his bags and set everything up. Nothing felt different. 

He made his trip to the bus stop, noticing the blankets of snow coating all the ground, sidewalks included. A snowstorm occurred last night, it wasn’t really a concern to him, more so a gentle recollection. Everything felt… normal so far. His footsteps created indents in the snowed ground, up until he reached the bus stop, where Stan, Kyle and Kenny already stood. They all seemed to be engaged in something Stan was recounting. Kyle held a shit eating grin whereas Kenny appeared too sucked into it, only being able to provide an absent smirk. Once he started getting ‘help’, his three friends decided to be nicer to him, which was sort of decent. He hated it originally, though. Who the fuck wants to be treated differently because of drugs?

Cartman filled his usual spot in the group of four in utter silence. Whatever Stan said fell deaf to his ears, he didn’t bother caring. It was probably how he fucked his girlfriend or something to that stupid extent. 

“You alright?” 

Cartman glanced at whoever inquired with narrowed eyes. “Yes, Kahl. I’m fucking dandy.” He received a raised eyebrow from the red headed Jew and nothing more. Good. He didn’t want to be bothered by shitty questions. 

Cartman barely registered getting onto his bus, he was so lost in thought that it became an automatic movement once the yellow vehicle opened its doors. He sat down, too distracted to care who he was sitting next to. With a lurch from the bus that only got him somewhat away from his introspections, Cartman closed his eyes and awaited arriving to his school. 

\--

Cartman found himself in lunch, sitting and staring blankly at his food. He blinked away the daze and confusion, looking up from his previous state. His friend’s eyes were trained on him. “What?” He felt strange. Like, ‘how the fuck did I get here?’ strange.

“Dude, we’ve been calling your name for like a minute. What’s wrong?” Stan asked. 

Whatever. “Nothing.” 

“Don’t give us that shit; there’s something wrong.” Kyle, Cartman sensed, was concerned too. What the fuck was this, a pity party? 

“There’s nothing wrong you fucking piece of shit Jew!” He snapped, gritting his teeth moments after. He was feeling it now. Then he saw how Kyle’s stupid face dawned in understanding, as if he knew fucking everything. Well, you know what Kyle? You don’t know SHIT. You think you know the fucking world because you were born in a shitty Jewish family! It’s like you’re so fucking high and mighty, you DESERVE to be knocked down from your fucking castle. 

Cartman realized he’d said it out-loud when he felt arms restraining his shoulders; he was standing with a tight grasp on Kyle’s collar, Kenny and Stan were striving to get him to stop. 

What? 

He released his grip and took a seat once again. 

The rest of the day felt like a blur. Maybe Kyle was mad, he bothered little to make amends. People spoke here and there, but nothing piqued Cartman’s interest. Classes flew by, he payed no attention to them all. And then he was in his room, staring at a wall, hands resting on his lap. By then he remembered tidbits of the day, enough not to care.   
Cartman wished for silence and nothing but. The teenager wanted peace. Everything was okay when he was in the safety of his room and absolute solitude. He heard tiny flutters, as if small wings were attempting to hold up a heavy form. To his agitation and unpleasant surprise, Cupid Me flew near. The miniscule humanoid beamed warmly, earnest in its happiness.

“Teehee! We haven’t talked in so long, Eric!” 

“Fuck OFF. GET OUT. GET OUT!” 

He wrecked his room trying to get that fucking pest out. The brunette knew that Cupid Me was just a figment of his perplexing imagination, as mentioned countless times by his old therapist, it was just so frustrating to see that thing in his room again after years without it. It wasn’t a shocker when his mother peaked inside his room and immediately left. She didn’t want to deal with him. No one did. 

Cartman panted, a textbook in hand and eyes darting around, attempting to spot the stupid cherub. Alas when there were no sign of the Valentine’s Day demon, he threw the textbook on the floor and laid down. Cartman had obliterated a several trinkets here and there in blind fury while trying to get Cupid Me out, he’d also gutted his closet and cabinets. His room was a mess and his eyes were heavy. 

Maybe, he thought, I need my medication. 

The next day he again skipped his treatment. Why? He wasn’t sure. 

At school he had quite the trouble ignoring Cupid Me. The asshole flew around his head in glee, rambling on about the most inane love stories. He couldn’t take it, the way its fat body jiggled every time he laughed and snickered at a stupid joke he made, or when he burst out laughing at the slightest innuendo. Cartman was prepared to grab him midair and squeeze the ever living fuck out of him, and for a moment he was about to do just that. 

“Eric Cartman,” a teacher’s foreboding voice registered in his head. He focused enough to see his math teacher staring at him expectantly. He was asked something but had no idea what it was. 

“Tehee, you’re in trouble now!” Cupid Me flew right in front of Cartman’s face, curly brown hair sweeping across his eyes, almost obscuring the cherub’s mischievous expression. He was doing this on purpose. 

“Shut up!” He spoke loud enough that it was met instantly with a cross expression from his teacher. The class chortled. The teacher turned around and continued his lesson, trifled. Cartman sunk deep into his chair with reddened cheeks and a scowl. 

He made it out of the class once the bell rang and beelined to the lunch line. At least Cartman was remembering things today, unlike the fragmented memories he picked out yesterday. With his lunch in hand, he dropped his tray down in his usual spot and sat. Kyle was there, as was Kenny. Stan had yet to arrive, he had a fleeting thought that maybe it was his girlfriend obliterating his face and moaning his name. As if he cared. Cupid Me settled himself onto the table, right next to his food. Kenny and Kyle made idle conversation while he opened his milk carton and drank. 

“So Eric, ever thought of going on another date with me?” The cherub giggled, it was so fucking annoying. Cartman elicited no response, setting down his milk. “Aw, didn’t you enjoy your time with me?” He tapped his fingers against the table. There was no reason to be upset, the cherub was nothing more than his psyche.“After all, I did make love to you!” At that, Cartman lifted his tray and slammed it down on the spot where Cupid Me was, staring daggers. The small creature groaned in pain, to which he felt that was satisfactory enough and adjusted his food back into place. He felt the eyes of Kyle and Kenny. 

\-- 

Kyle was at Cartman’s front doorstep with an uneasy look, biting at his lip. Cartman was surprised to see him. There had been a long ring of the bell which was followed by two awkward knocks, he opened the door to discover the Jew. “Uh, hey.” Cartman threw uncertain glances towards the red head. What was he doing there? No one had visited him for, what he could remember, years.

“Hey, can I… Come in?” 

The larger boy sidestepped, allowing for Kyle to traipse inside. The brunette’s face betrayed him in showing his bewilderment. “What do you want?” 

“Look, I’ve noticed something’s not… Right. I just wanted to make sure you were, uh, alright.” 

Of course, the Jew wanted to take responsibility for something that wasn’t any of his business. “Yeah fucking right, what the hell do you really want? I’m getting enough shit as it is, I don’t need you to add to it.” He dismissed Kyle’s fraud tact tone. He wasn’t about to be fooled, robbed of his money and left in the dust. Cartman had to be one step ahead, always. 

“Seriously? Dude, I’m just making sure you’re okay.” 

“I don’t fucking need you to do that, you fucking Jew! I don’t fucking care about you!” His words felt like venom, it was gratifying to pick up the quick flash of pain on Kyle’s face. “You probably think I’m some sort of sick asshole that belongs in a mental hospital!” 

Kyle was silent for a moment before asking in hesitation. “Cartman, have you… been taking your medication…?” Cartman’s eyes widened but he quickly switched to indifference.  
“No,” he responded, curt. “What does that matter to you?” He watch Kyle answer but his attention was diverted by Cupid Me, flying near his line of sight with a big fat grin, circling the Jew’s head and making obscene sexual gestures. 

“Teeheehee! You like Kyle, don’t you, Eric? You want to see him underneath you on a hot, steamy night--” Cartman granted both the cherub and Kyle no time to finish their sentences, he bursted in rage with a disgusted and vehement expression. 

“Shut THE FUCK UP! I’M SICK OF YOUR SHIT, STOP TALKING YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! STOP!” He shouted, lunging forward to rip Cupid Me away from Kyle’s face, to which the redhead misinterpreted as an assault. They both collided hard atop the ground, Cartman above Kyle and Cupid Me gone. Where did he go!? “Where is he? Where-- where is he!?”  
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, fatass! Get off me!” 

Cartman caught sight of the ardent fear in Kyle’s eye. Oh. He rose up and off of the Jew, face contorted in sheer turmoil. Kyle left shortly thereafter, sparing no words.

Fine. 

Fine! 

Kyle, he could go suck a big fucking chode. He could die! Cartman didn’t care! 

He didn’t care. 

That’s what he tried to think. 

\--

Weekend arrived. He lay on his bed.

Cartman was drained even though he hadn’t left his room since his awakening. His room was a mess, still. It gave him a headache to look at it. 

He didn’t enjoy being such a gross mental case. Everyone pitied him. No one feared him like they used to, no one respected him as much as before. Medicine could never fully cure him. There had to be a way out, a way to stop the madness. 

Clyde Frog got out, he thought. Granted, it wasn’t his choice in the matter that he died, but, he was out nonetheless. He mulled it over before grabbing his phone and unlocking it, clicking slowly on Kenny’s icon. If he were to ponder death, he wanted to know how it felt. Or at least discuss it with someone. Several minutes lead to him to typing, _‘how does it feel like to die?’._

_‘Dude, what?’_

_‘well i mean this is more figurative of course. i know no one knows how it feels like to die, i was just thinking. “maybe kenny know since hes like poor as shit”’  
‘I thought as much. Why do you want to know, anyways?’_

_‘because...’_ Cartman left no more elaboration than a simple, _‘just do.’_ He sighed and locked his phone, placing it on his chest in case it buzzed with a notification. 

Cartman groaned at the sound of mystical shimmering. “Oh, Eric, I miss you calling me your little Twinkle Star! Teeheehee! Can’t you call me Twinkle Star one last time?” Cupid Me had his hands of his cheeks, as if he were bashfully hiding a blush, Cartman only noticed this since he was startled by the cherub’s unannounced entrance. Cartman sighed and turned so he faced away from Cupid Me. He grew weary of Cupid Me’s constant toying, and hell, maybe he didn’t even intend to be a pain in the ass but Cartman was done. He didn’t want to deal with it. There really only was one thing to do. He picked up the phone. _‘kenny i cant do this anymore, i dont know why im telling you this but i really cant do this.’_

_‘Cartman, is everything alright? What are you talking about?’_

_‘tell kyle hes i said im sorry i was kind of a dick to him’_

_‘Cartman????? Cartman what are you about to do?’_ Cartman placed his phone down after reading Kenny’s message and heaved himself up, unsteady. He ignored Cupid Me’s blather as he made his way to the bathroom and shut the door in front of the winged creature. There was nothing inherently wrong with what he was about to do, he was just going to pick up his medication and take them again. Be normal, forget that entire thing happened. As he opened one of his many prescriptions he decided to shake the entire thing in his hand. If he took them all at once, wouldn’t it make sense that he were going to have to not take pills later? If one pill lasted for a day, twenty would last him almost a month. Really, he was surprised to why no one thought of this earlier! 

He downed them dry, and that proved to be rather discomforting, though once he properly swallowed he was able to get out of the room. Already Cupid Me was gone and he felt tons relieved. He entered his room and plopped down on his bed, pausing momentarily once he realized his phone had been ringing. At a close inspection it was Kenny, and even closer he saw there had been four missed calls from Kenny. He accepted the call and greeted in a chipper tone. “Hey, Kenny.”

“What the fuck is up, man? You sounded like you were about to kill yourself! Jesus Christ!” 

“I just took my pills, Ken, I’m fine.” He felt bleary, which was weird. He never felt tired after his pills. “I took the whole bottle, though. I feel pretty tired right now. I think I’m going to take a nap.” He heard a sharp gasp from Kenny. 

“Cartman, I’m gonna call 991. Don’t go to sleep, please just stay awake.” Kenny sounded alarmed. Once again he was confused. 

“Why are you calling them? Why can’t I fall asleep?” Already his eyes were drooping. He decided he didn’t care what his friend was up to. “Kenny, I’m just gonna take a nap, I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m gonna die. I’ll call you later.” He hung up. He threw his phone next to him and sunk into his bed. Cartman was incredibly comfortable. Aside from his stomach hurting from time to time, which he blamed on something he’d eaten yesterday, he felt amazing. Sleep overtook him the moment his eyes closed.

**Author's Note:**

> idk what this is


End file.
